We are young and wild at heart,
but know our bodies die.
So fire your heart,
and fix your torch
to sail it through the night.

Maybe if you were my lady,
Maybe I could be your man.
Maybe if you were my lady,
I could be your man.

Though we tried our best to keep
time from moving on,
old we'll grow with brittle bones
but dance to every song.

And those who fell before us
witness to our fire
are footprints in the soot
as we walk
barefoot through their pyre.